


A Friend in Need's a Friend Indeed (or What Happens at Welling's House, STAYS at Welling's House.)

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Smallville RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Drama, First Time, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-15
Updated: 2006-09-15
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:29:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8698906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: I now bring you fic featuring my newest-discovered OTP...and that would be Smallville-era!Jensen and Gilmore Girls-era!Jared. Together. HAVING THE SECKS.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** A Friend in Need’s a Friend Indeed (or What Happens at Welling's House, STAYS at Welling's House.)  
  
  
  
Jared wasn’t really sure what the hell he was thinking, coming here.  
  
He’d accepted Tom’s invitation because, well, Tom was _Tom_. The Superman of the WB in both a literal and figurative sense. Jared was more like…Peter Pan. Or maybe even Wendy. Anyway, he wasn’t someone to say no to attending Tom Welling’s “little get-together”, especially when Superman himself had done the asking.  
  
Jared realized he was really nothing special. Playing Rory Gilmore’s first boyfriend wasn’t exactly up there on the totem pole, especially when he was starting to get the idea that maybe the writers were planning to just off his character in a fiery explosion or something to get rid of the disaster they’d created – but having starred in that one movie with Tom (the one with Steve Martin, he told everyone who asked, because it sounded more important that way), he’d struck up an odd sort of friendship with Tom. Or more precisely, Tom had felt sorry for him and decided to take him under his wing.  
  
Whatever. The point was, Jared was here. He might as well make the best of it. And hope that Chad had shown up.  
  
Of course, Making the Best of It was immediately put to the test when the front door of Tom and Jamie’s LA home was opened to reveal the manically smiling face of Tom’s best friend, Michael Rosenbaum.  
  
It wasn’t that Jared didn’t _like_ Mike. He did, in a way. But the guy was freaking psychotic. And for whatever reason, he seemed to really enjoy proving this whenever Jared was around. Jared was equal parts amused by and terrified of him.  
  
“Little Paladecki!” Rosenbaum crowed, a crystal decanter held loosely between his fingers as he practically hauled Jared up the last step and into a bone-crushing hug. Jared didn’t bother to correct Mike on the pronunciation of his last name. Mike would apologize, and then do it again ten minutes later.  
  
“Hey,” he managed when Mike finally let him go, wincing as the scent of whiskey permeated the air between them. He slid a hand around his neck and worked up a grin. “Already getting started, huh?”  
  
Mike snorted. “None for you, little man,” he slurred, shaking a finger in Jared’s face before slinging an arm around him and pulling him inside. “Got another year to go yet, Jared.”  
  
“Fuck you.” Jared had to laugh, even though the insinuation wasn’t amusing. Mike always had to point out the fact that he was too young to drink, usually before shoving a can of beer – or whatever the nearest alcohol happened to be – into Jared’s hand. It was the way things went.  
  
Sure enough…  
  
“Kegs are in the back, hors devours in the front,” Mike was saying, drawling out _hors devours_ like he couldn’t quite wrap his drunken tongue around the word. He gave Jared a little push. “Your boy’s downstairs, and your girl’s in the backyard.”  
  
Which meant Chad and Alexis were here. He was relieved to hear the first, and a little annoyed about the second. He and Alexis hadn’t been together for awhile, but there was little love lost between them. What the hell had Tom even invited her for? He’d openly bashed Jared's Gilmore Girls co-star on more than one occasion.  
  
Fuck it.  
  
Grabbing hold of his shirt collar, Jared made his way through the crush of familiar and unfamiliar faces – stopping to greet and be greeted by several – looking for Tom or Jamie or Chad and actively avoiding the backyard patio.  
  
“Jared!” Tom’s booming voice echoed through the crowd, and Jared turned to find his friend approaching with a grin and two drinks. He accepted one as Tom clapped him on the back and leaned a little too close. “That bitch showed up. Sorry man, I think Lauren brought her.”  
  
Well, hell. Jared hadn’t even considered the Lauren Factor.  
  
“It’s fine,” he grumbled, jerking at his collar again and looking around the room. “Just…don’t tell her I’m here.”  
  
Tom didn’t bother to ask if he meant Lauren or Alexis, just nodded and touched his drink to Jared’s. “In the meantime, enjoy yourself and try to get extremely drunk and do something stupid, okay?”  
  
Jared smirked. “Contributing to the delinquency of minors, Welling? Your mama would be so proud.”  
  
“Don’t talk about my mama,” Tom warned jokingly, backing away with a salute. Jared blinked, and he was gone.  
  
With a sigh, he looked around again, not seeing anyone he was remotely interested in talking to. Kristin Kreuk was over by the food, but Jared couldn’t get within two feet of her without springing a hard-on, so that option was out. Allison Mack was waving to him from the couch, and Jared gave a half-hearted wave in response.  
  
He liked Alli, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with her brand of sarcasm at the moment. He needed a few more drinks first.  
  
He wandered aimlessly, bored out of his mind and feeling more than a little depressed about it. Hell, he was at a party at Tom Welling’s house. He knew people back home who would’ve killed their own parents for the honor. And here was Jared, ready to sneak out the back door and head back to his apartment and watch TV.  
  
He made it past the first two bedrooms, tugging at his collar and wishing he’d shown up in a fucking wife-beater like several of the other guys. He felt over-warm and claustrophobic, which was odd since he’d never had an issue hanging out at Tom’s before. Or with people, for that matter.  
  
Maybe he was on his man-period. Or whatever his sister called it. He certainly felt pissy enough.  
  
A half-closed door caught his attention and he headed over, vaguely remembering it as a bathroom. The idea of drowning himself in cold water held a definite appeal. Only when he pushed it open, there was a staircase and the tinny sounds of a television playing from somewhere just beyond. Jared threw a glance behind him, catching sight of the group of half-drunken celebrities cavorting like a bunch of imbeciles, and started down the steps without another thought.  
  
The den was empty, but there was a big-screen TV playing the Dallas game, and Jared let out a breath of relief and plopped down into a nearby chair to watch. He was just getting into a sweet turnover by the Browns when a voice called out, “Like the Cowboys, do you?”  
  
Jared spun around; eyeing the figure sprawled out on the sofa with a wary eye. He hadn’t noticed the guy at first, and now that he had a good look, he couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t.  
  
He was fucking spectacular. It was kind of ridiculous, actually. Jared recognized him vaguely as the newest addition to the Smallville cast – had heard Tom and Mike talk about him a bit here and there. _Jensen_ something, if he remembered correctly.  
  
“Uh, yeah,” he answered, blinking when the guy cocked a questioning brow. He could feel the heat working up his features and turned away. “I’m from Texas.”  
  
God, how fucking lame.  
  
“Yeah?” The guy seemed interested. His voice roughened with curiosity, and Jared looked back to see a not-quite-believing expression on the guy’s face. “No shit. Me, too. Dallas?”  
  
“San Antonio,” Jared said, a bit defensively.  
  
“Ah.” And that was it. _Ah._  
  
Jared waited a few beats, staring at the television as the Cowboys QB threw an interception. He didn’t even wince at the awful play, too busy waiting for the guy to elaborate.  
  
Jared had never been the patient type.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he finally blurted out, turning all the way around in his seat to glare.  
  
The guy cocked another brow, and for fuck’s sake, it only made his perfect features that much more appealing. Jared had seen his share of pretty boys, fucking Tom for starters. But this guy, with his sun-bleached hair and pouty pink lips and heavily lashed green eyes…hell, he could give Kristin a run for her money.  
  
Not that Jared was even remotely interested. There had only been that one instance his junior year, with that exchange student from Milan. And now he knew he totally and completely liked women. Period.  
  
But he could still appreciate the fact that the guy was freaking smokin’.  
  
Instead of answering Jared’s question, the guy just curved his lips and nodded. “I know you…you’re Rory Gilmore’s little boyfriend.”  
  
Nothing he might’ve said could have pissed Jared off more.  
  
“I know you, too,” Jared bit off. “You were on that soap opera with the chick that got possessed by the devil. Hey, my mom thought you were cute.”  
  
The guy’s eyes narrowed at the intended dig, and Jared had to bite back a smirk. And then, the guy laughed. Fucking _laughed_ , and an odd little tingle raced up Jared’s spine at the husky sound.  
  
“Well played,” he murmured, stroking along his lower lip. Jared refused to stare, even as his fingers clenched into fists. Then, “Jensen.”  
  
So he _had_ remembered it right. Jared offered a cool nod. “Jared.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.” White teeth flashed before Jensen added, “Tom mentioned his little friend was coming.”  
  
And that was just fucking _it_. Jared was used to being condescended to in this business to a point. But he’d be damned if it came from some smug, good-looking asshole who didn’t know him from Adam’s thumb.  
  
He was getting ready to say just that to Jensen, when the door banged against the wall and Chad’s voice called out, “Jaaaayrud? You down here, man?”  
  
There was a moment’s pause where Jensen’s eyes locked on his, brows narrowing, and _something_ sparked through the air between them. Jared blinked, and then the moment was gone. He called out a bit frantically, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”  
  
Chad’s clomping footsteps echoed in his ears and then his best friend was standing in front of him and grinning drunkenly. “Hey…what ‘cha hiding out down here for?”  
  
Chad’s shirt was half-open, a lipstick stain low on his jaw. He reeked of the same perfume Jared had noticed when hugging Sophia Bush earlier, and it was all he could do not to smirk at the besotted look in his friend’s eyes.  
  
“Not hiding,” he said, still acutely aware of a gaze burning in his back. “Just…getting some fresh air.”  
  
“In the den?” But Chad didn’t wait for an explanation, immediately catching sight of Jensen and pausing. “Oh. It’s you.”  
  
Jensen looked as bored as ever. “Nice to see you, Murray.” But his tone indicated anything but.  
  
“Yeah, whatever.” The temperature cooled several degrees, and Jared looked back and forth between the two with growing curiosity. Before he could ask, Chad grabbed him and jerked him up. “Well, we gotta be going. Later.”  
  
And Jared let himself be dragged out of the room even as he threw a look over his shoulder to find Jensen watching him leave. The second they’d cleared the area, he planted his feet, using his height as an advantage to pull Chad to a stop.  
  
“Okay, what the _fuck_ was that all about?”  
  
Chad looked irritated, but not seriously pissed-off or anything. “I dunno, dude. That guy…he just rubs me the wrong way, you know?”  
  
Jared _did_ know, but he was pretty damn sure Chad wasn’t talking about the same thing. “How do you even know him?”  
  
Chad made a face. “Dawson’s Creek, dude. Don’t wanna talk about it.”  
  
Jared had to snort. “You gotta get over that, man. It was a good gig.”  
  
Chad stared at him. “It was fuckin’ Dawson’s Creek, Jared.”  
  
And damn it, that ticked _Jared_ off. He looked away, scratching the back of his neck and sighing. “Hey, it’s better than playing Rory fuckin’ Gilmore’s ‘little boyfriend’.”  
  
“Good point.” And then Chad flashed his teeth, and Jared shook his head.  
  
“You’re such an asshole.”  
  
“You love me.” Chad waited a beat, then added, “But seriously, dude. Watch out for that guy. Ackles is a freak of nature, okay? No one looks that perfect all the damn time. I’m telling you…freak. Of. Nature.”  
  
“Sounds like you’re jealous to me,” Jared drawled, following Chad up the stairs, a pair of dark green eyes in the back of his mind.  
  
 

* * *

  
  
  
Jared was feeling pleasantly tipsy. Okay, drunk, but he didn’t like admitting that after three – no, four – beers. But the point was, he was feeling good. He slouched back a little more in Tom’s leather sofa, legs spread wide and eyes heavy-lidded. He was watching Zack and Slater duke it out over Kelly on a Saved by the Bell rerun when the cushion dipped at his side.  
  
“God, she’s fucking hot.” The voice slid over him like honey-molasses on his mama’s French toast, and Jared glanced over to find Jensen staring at the screen. He drew on a longneck, nodding his head toward the TV and smacking his lips. “Kelly fuckin’ Kapowski. Tell me you didn’t want to tap that, man.”  
  
Like it was even a freaking question. Jared just slumped lower and scowled. Jensen had pointedly ignored him all night after their first awkward encounter, and just because he suddenly felt like talking, Jared was supposed to jump to the occasion?  
  
After a moment’s pause, Jensen whistled. “What’s got your panties in a twist, Paladecki?”  
  
Jared’s teeth gritted. “It’s _Padalecki_. Jesus.”  
  
“Oh.” A considering sound escaped Jensen’s throat, and he shifted a bit. “Thought I heard Rosenbaum say—”  
  
“Rosenbaum’s an ass.”  
  
Jensen snorted. “You don’t sound too fond of our dear Lex Luthor,” he drawled, cynical amusement coloring his deep voice. Jared refused to admit the sound of it was doing funny things to his stomach. That was just the beer and Jager.  
  
“I like him just fine,” Jared answered, careful to sound just as uninterested as Jensen. “But he’s a total jackass.”  
  
“This from the guy who’s best friends with Chad Michael Murray,” Jensen mused, and that did it.  
  
“Fuck you,” Jared snapped, voice slurred as he turned to regard Jensen through bleary eyes. “You don’t know shit about Chad. You don’t know shit about _me_.”  
  
To Jared’s surprise, Jensen looked just as irritated as Jared felt. “I know more than I wanna know about your precious _Chad_ ,” he bit off, facing Jared. “And sorry if I have to wonder what a guy like you is doing with a douchebag like him.”  
  
“Takes one to know one, I guess.” Jared smirked, flopping back against the couch and staring at the screen. He could practically _hear_ Jensen fuming next to him, and it was all he could do not to break out into maniacal laughter.  
  
“Whatever,” Jensen muttered a minute later, and Jared glanced out of the corner of his eye to see him licking his lips. An odd ache started somewhere south of his belt, and Jared shifted a bit uncomfortably.  
  
_Don’t even fucking go there, Jared._  
  
“I guess…from what I’d heard…I just thought you were different,” Jensen was saying, so softly that Jared half-thought he’d imagined the words. But no, Jensen was watching him with those fucking _eyes_ , still licking his mouth, and suddenly, Jared had just reached the end of his rope.  
  
He came to his feet, nearly knocking over a nearby table as he stormed away from the couch and Jensen and lips and…  
  
He searched blindly for the first empty room he could find, and lucked out when the third door he pushed open revealed a well-decorated guest room. He was just inside when Jensen slipped in behind him, shutting the door with his foot and shoving Jared up against it. His eyes were glittering in the dim lamplight and whatever curse Jared was preparing to hiss got stuck somewhere in the back of his throat.  
  
“What’re you…” He trailed off when Jensen leaned up a bit so that their breath twisted together, and Jensen’s tongue swiped across his lips.  
  
“You done playing games, Jared?” he murmured, a thread of heat woven through his voice, and Jared swallowed hard.   
  
“I—” He bit into his lower lip when Jensen’s thigh slid in between his own, and couldn’t bite back the quiet groan. “I wasn’t playin’ anything, man.”  
  
Jensen stared up at him, expression a mixture of annoyance and a vulnerability that Jared would’ve never expected to see on the jaded son of a bitch. After a moment, Jensen let out a choked laugh and pressed closer. “Don’t know why, but that just pisses me off even more.”  
  
He accented this comment with a long, slow lick to Jared’s jaw. Jared felt his knees start to tremble, his dick go hard, and knew he couldn’t chalk this one up to alcohol. His hands fell heavily on Jensen’s shoulders, fingers clenching in the wash-worn material.  
  
“Jen…” The name sounded way too right on his lips, all slurred and dreamy, and Jared jerked him closer. “Fuck.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Jensen answered on a half-laugh, and then he was pulling Jared across the carpet toward the bed, and Jared was trying not to trip over his over-sized feet. He opened his mouth to say something – protest? Thank the sweet Lord above? – but Jensen pressed his mouth up against Jared’s, snagging his bottom lip between sharp teeth, and everything in Jared’s mind went blank.  
  
He was yanking Jensen’s shirt over his head when they fell onto the mattress, all arms and legs and soft, heated oaths. Jensen let out a ridiculously sexy little purr as Jared finally got his hands on his chest. He thumbed across Jensen’s nipples, smoothing his fingers along the bulk of muscle and sinew, eyes intense and focused as Jensen arched under him and started nibbling on his chin.  
  
“Yeah, that feels good…” he was whispering, encouraging, and Jared let out a sound that probably would’ve embarrassed him at any other time as Jensen’s hands slid down the front of his pants. He thrust his hips, letting Jensen palm his dick through denim, and turned his head just enough to find Jensen’s mouth again.  
  
“Pretty cocksucking lips,” he muttered, chewing at the pink flesh until Jensen was gasping and cussing and begging, his fingers digging into Jared’s hip. “Can’t stop fuckin’ thinking about it.”  
  
“About what?” Jensen asked, voice dark and sultry-sweet. He rolled his hips and Jared felt the press of Jensen’s cock through the linen slacks he wore. The asshole was clearly baiting him, but this was a hook Jared was willing to nibble on.  
  
He pulled back, meeting the almost challenging look in Jensen’s gaze and said bluntly, “Your mouth, wrapped around my dick.”  
  
Jensen stared, long lashes blinking, and then he shuddered and whispered, “That what you want, Jay?”  
  
No one called him Jay. JT, sure, and Jared hated it with a fucking passion, but what could you do when your family started the damn trend in the first place? Jay, though, was a first…and it sounded so fucking hot coming from Jensen that it was all Jared could do not to turn the guy over and fuck him through the mattress without the necessary foreplay. The idea that Jensen may not even mind did nothing to help the situation.  
  
Instead of answering the obvious, Jared took a deep breath and caught Jensen’s hands where they were lazily trailing across the bump of flesh at his groin. He waited for Jensen to look up at him from under his lids, questioning, and blurted out, “Why me?”  
  
As soon as he said it, he felt twenty different kinds of moronic. What the hell did it matter…they both obviously wanted it, _had_ wanted it since the start of their antagonistic flirtation earlier that evening, but for whatever reason Jared just really needed to hear the answer. And fuck if that didn’t make him feel like a thirteen-year old girl.  
  
“Why not you?” was Jensen’s vague response, and Jared felt the frown twitching his lips.  
  
“Wow, that’s flattering.” He wasn’t sure what the hell he even _wanted_ Jensen to say, but that definitely wasn’t it.   
  
Jensen apparently read the frustration knotting in his stomach, because he fell back and sighed. “What do you want me to say? It was love at first sight, some other bullshit? You just seemed like a good fuck, so why are we wasting time with this, Jared?”  
  
There was something not-quite-right about Jensen’s voice, but Jared was too fucking stuck on his words to try and interpret it. Disappointment warred with lust, and then he was eating at Jensen’s mouth and shoving both hands down Jensen’s pants until the older guy was keening and humping into his fist.  
  
“You got anything?” he managed between hard licks at Jensen’s mouth, lifting his hips to let Jensen work his jeans down. “Please tell me you fucking have—”  
  
“My wallet.” Jensen reached around and grabbed Jared by the ass, squeezing, mouth sucking, and Jared’s eyes rolled back in his head before he tore away with a groan. Jensen rolled over onto his belly, head down and hips up, fingers clenched in the sheets of the bed.  
  
“Fuck.” They were really gonna do this. _He_ was really gonna do this. That little experimentation with the foreign exchange student in high school had been nothing compared to the sight of a naked Jensen Ackles – primed and ready for Jared Padalecki to fuck him in Superman’s guest bed.  
  
His fingers felt thick and numb as he reached down and tugged his jeans the rest of the way off, then reached over to rifle through Jensen’s discarded pants. He easily found the leather wallet, and the condom and travel-lube within. He stared at both for a moment, then Jensen looked over his shoulder and caught Jared’s gaze.  
  
“You’re not pussying out on me, are ya Padalecki?”  
  
And that was just what Jared needed to hear. He took his dick in hand and slid on the condom, ignoring the little sound from Jensen’s lips as he watched Jared slick himself with the lube. “Do me, too,” he managed in a raspy voice, wiggling his hips, and Jared nearly bit off his own tongue.  
  
“How-how many?” he asked, shocked by the throaty sound of his own voice as he scooted closer, his legs framing Jensen’s calves, and smeared the jelly along his fingers.   
  
“I’ll let you know when to stop.”  
  
Well, fuck.  
  
The first two slid in easily enough, and Jared gritted his teeth when muscles clamped down tight around him and Jensen bucked a little into the mattress. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispered, watching his fingers slip in and out to the knuckle.  
  
“That ain’t no way for a Texas boy to talk,” Jensen murmured, but his voice was as shot and thready as Jared’s.  
  
Jared had to laugh a little. “This ain’t no way for a Texas boy to act, either,” he retorted, letting another finger join the others and relishing Jensen’s soft cry. He watched those perfect hands go white at the knuckles, and bent his head to drag his tongue along the sensitive skin below Jensen’s ear.  
  
Jensen twitched. “Goddamn, yes,” he gasped, hips rocking as Jared licked and stretched him open. “Oh, fuck…”  
  
Jared took that as a green-light, sliding his fingers out and quickly tugging on his cock once to redistribute the lube. And then he was coming over Jensen, guiding himself inside and biting off a hoarse groan as Jensen opened up around him and started saying the filthiest garbage Jared had ever heard during his twenty years of living.  
  
“Harder,” Jensen directed, angling his neck, and Jared caught a glimpse of blown-wide eyes and shiny, swollen lips. He thrust forward, tears stinging his lids at how fucking good it felt. The added effect of intoxication made everything a little surreal as he started driving in and out, listening to Jensen’s choked moans and whimpers, the headboard a steady banging in his ears.  
  
It was sloppy and fast, and Jared reached down and grasped himself at the base, squeezing when he felt the impending rush of come bursting at his slit. Jensen was humping the mattress and still talking trash, but Jared knew the second it all became too much. He could fucking feel Jensen coming, all around him, and it was…he couldn’t…  
  
“Oh, fuck fuck fuck…” It was like a mantra when he let loose, driving in one last time and churning his hips as he came. He managed to pull out and get the condom off before he passed out listening to Jensen’s heavy breathing in his ear.  
  
 

* * *

  
  
  
He woke up to the sun in his eyes and Mike Rosenbaum’s dry voice in his ear.  
  
“The hell you get up to last night, Jared? You look like shit.”  
  
Jared blinked, groaning and rolling over to block out the light and The Ass. “Go away,” he muttered around a thick tongue, stretching his arm out to wrap a pillow around his head. Everything seemed really…blurry. And painful.  
  
“No can do, son. Tom and Jamie want their house back, and you? Smell like my asscrack.” With those poetic words, Mike reached down and grabbed Jared by both ankles.  
  
Jared let out a curse, reacting a second too late as he found himself laid out on the carpet. Buck naked. Mike let out a hoot, and Jared sat up on his elbows to glare. “You better start running, Rosenbaum, I swear to God…”  
  
“Like you’re in any position to catch me?” Michael leered. “Just because you got a third leg you haven’t told anyone about…”  
  
Jared scrambled to his knees, ignoring the flash of pain in his temple, but Mike easily danced out of reach and laughed again. Jared sank down onto his haunches and grabbed his pants, tugging them up his hips and trying not to flush as memories of the night before started seeping in.  
  
Jesus Christ, he’d gone and fucked some random guy he’d met at a WB party. He was officially a network cliché.  
  
Jensen was nowhere to be found, which wasn’t a surprise considering he doubted Rosenbaum would be half as helpful – by Rosenbaum standards – if he’d walked in the room to find Jared and Jensen in bed together. Jared was thankful for that, even as he wondered where Jensen had gone and what he was thinking about, well, everything.  
  
He probably wasn’t thinking anything at all. He was probably already working on the next innocent young thing to scam. Jared tried not to let that bother him. It wasn’t like he was gonna see the guy again, anyway.  
  
Tom walked in to find Mike still laughing as Jared got dressed and grumbled under his breath. “Hey, Mike, you seen Jensen?” were the first words out of his mouth, and Jared’s fingers froze on his zipper.  
  
“Nah, man. Thought he bugged out early,” Mike was saying, “which wouldn’t surprise me. Fucking shy bastard.”  
  
Tom dropped onto the bed and sighed. “You’re telling me I set this whole party up for him to get a piece of ass and he _still_ wouldn’t go through with it?”  
  
“Shit!” Jared dragged his thumb to his lip, sucking on the slice from his zipper as Tom and Mike stared at him. He felt the blush highlighting his features and half-turned away, blood thundering in his ears. “Uh, I’m fine. Just…finger slipped.”  
  
“Jeez, Jared, you look—”  
  
“Like shit, yeah, I already told him.” Mike’s eyes were a little too intent when Jared glanced over, and for a heart-stopping moment he wondered if his friend had actually figured it out. Then Mike was back to looking like Mike and flashing his teeth. “Well, I’ll be damned. Jensen pussied out, but Jared here scored big.”  
  
Jared looked away, throat closed up as he remembered his and Jensen’s words from the night before.   
  
_Why me?  
  
You just seemed like a good fuck._  
  
He tuned back in time to hear Tom groaning, “Oh, God, tell me you didn’t hook back up with that bitch, Jared.”  
  
“Who? Alexis?” Mike’s ears were perking, eager as usual to get any kind of gossip.  
  
Jared on the other hand, could barely remember what Alexis looked like. Every image that sprang to mind had dirty-blonde hair and hooker eyes and a voice roughened like whiskey and rye.  
  
He was so goddamn fucked.   
  
“I’m outta here,” he mumbled to no one in particular, eager to get the hell outta dodge and fall face-first on his bed and pretend this entire nightmare had never happened. Maybe drink himself stupid – again – and forget about Jensen fucking Ackles and whatever the hell he’d been trying to accomplish by letting Jared fuck him when he could’ve had any woman in the goddamn room.  
  
He shoved his hands in his pockets, and froze at the little wisp of paper that brushed his fingers. He pulled it out and stared at the scrawled words, a smile slowly teasing the corners of his mouth as he read and reread the words in Jensen’s voice.  
  
Well, hell. Maybe he and Jen were _both_ goddamn fucked. 


End file.
